


Bucky Barnes Needs to Wear Something Other Than T-Shirts and the Cute Men's Department Employee Isn't Helping.

by yukiawison



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Metal Arm Bucky, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cm'on Bucky, you've worn nothing but t-shirts and sweatpants with holes in them since you came back. Let me take you shopping," Natasha pleaded.</p><p>Bucky Barnes looked down at his current ensemble of a paint stained Yankees t-shirt and jeans with too many holes to truly be considered pants.</p><p>"I can shop by myself thank you very much," he scowled. "You may have a point but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you play dress up all day."</p><p>"You're sure you don't need me James?"</p><p>"I'll be fine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky Barnes Needs to Wear Something Other Than T-Shirts and the Cute Men's Department Employee Isn't Helping.

"Cm'on Bucky, you've worn nothing but t-shirts and sweatpants with holes in them since you came back. Let me take you shopping," Natasha pleaded.

Bucky Barnes looked down at his current ensemble of a paint stained Yankees t-shirt and jeans with too many holes to truly be considered pants.

"I can shop by myself thank you very much," he scowled. "You may have a point but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you play dress up all day."

"You're sure you don't need me James?"

"I'll be fine."

Bucky wasn't fine. He'd seemed to have lost any fashion sense he possessed during the years of uniform he'd had in the army. Not to mention any time a voice over the intercom told Tina to make her way to intimate apparel, or reminding him that all shoes were 50% off he nearly jumped out of his skin. The added struggle of finding clothes to accommodate the metal arm wasn't helping either.

He was ready to call it quits accept Nat's help when he heard a voice.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Asked a scrawny guy with a red plaid shirt under his gray sweater. He had thick framed glasses shielding his blue eyes, and mussed blonde hair. Bucky jumped again.

"I um...looking for clothes that work with my um...new arm."

The man tilted his head to one side in confusion and Bucky realized the metal arm was hidden beneath his jacket.

"Oh, um..." He took off the jacket, holding out the metal hand for the guy to see. To his surprise the other man took it, giving him a firm handshake.

"I'm Steve, I'd love to help you if you'd let me."

"Bucky," Bucky replied. "And thank you."

"For what? I haven't done anything yet."

"You didn't freak out at the arm, and you didn't try to tell my you're sorry or ask how it happened."

"People ask?" His eyes widened.

Bucky nodded. "You'd be surprised."

"So what exactly are you looking for?"

"Well to be honest all I own right now are sweatpants, t-shirts, ripped jeans, and my old army uniforms. None of which are suitable for day to day life."

Steve nodded. "So pants, shirts jackets, maybe some sweaters..."

"My proportions are all screwy with the arm too."

"We'll make it work," Steve assured. "What do you like style wise?"

"I don't have much of a style...really."

Steve looked him up and down...and Bucky took that opportunity to check him out. He was cute, like dangerously cute, and Bucky was glad he found him before he called Nat. Speaking of Nat his phone rang, and with only one phone contact he figured out who it was before he picked up.

"Hello Natasha. Yes I'm still shopping. Of course I'm fine. Yes, Steve is helping me. He works for the store. I don't know Nat. Okay I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Your girlfriend?" Steve asked meekly, though he knew full well it wasn't his place.

"Naw, I'm single...and into guys," he added upon seeing the contented look on his face.

"I'm thinking darker colors on you," Steve said, voice an octave higher. "Do you like this?" He held up a dark button up. Bucky shrugged.

"I honestly don't know what I like anymore."

"Well let's try this," he said, handing him the shirt. "And this, and these...these might fit. Oh and I bet this'll look great on you." 

Bucky soon had an armful of clothes, to match the armful Steve had with more clothes for him to try on. He shuffled into an open dressing room and whipped out his phone. "Nat, Steve's hot. What do I do?"

"The guy helping you shop? Oh my god this is priceless. Well you know what I would do..."

"What would you do?"

"Try on a bunch of clothes that make you look super hot and ask him what he thinks."

"Nat..." Bucky began doubtfully.

"Bucky Barnes you are a hot piece of ass don't ever forget it," she said, motivational speaker style.

"Thanks Nat."

"Sam you've gotta help me," Steve whispered.

"Steve? Aren't you at work?"

"Yes and there's a cute guy. What do I do?"

Sam laughed. "Am I hearing you correctly? I thought you didn't fraternize on the job?"

"I...he's very attractive Sam."

"Then slip your number in the pocket of something he buys or something. Be suave."

"What do you think?"

"I gotta go Sam."

"Turn around Bucky,"  
He was in a dark leather jacket with cloth sleeves and gray skinny jeans that fit him like a glove. "You look great. Do you like it?"

Bucky turned around to face the mirror. "It's a lot to get used to I guess," he muttered. 

"I get it. Do you want to try something else? I'll take anything you don't want."

"I'll buy these," Bucky said.

Steve grinned. "Terrific, you want to try something else?"

"Sure," Bucky returned to the dressing room and put on the gray button up and navy waistcoat Steve had picked for him.

"Steve would you...my tie?"

Bucky stepped out of the dressing room and handed him the tie. Steve took it and tied it on himself before transferring it to Bucky's neck, stepping closer to tighten it. 

"Thanks Steve," Bucky replied. "What do you think?"

"I think you look hot," Bucky flushed. "I mean," Steve stuttered. "It looks nice on you. You should get it."

"I will, thank you."

Steve was scarlet. "So, the sweater next?"

"Steve!"

"Yes Bucky?"

"Could you come in here? I'm uh...kind of stuck."

Steve came in and had to stifle a laugh. Bucky's metal arm was tangled in the wool of the sweater, the other sleeve halfway off.

"It got caught on my arm," he mumbled.

Steve worked the fabric off of Bucky's arm gently.

"Are you seeing anyone Steve?" Bucky asked nervously.

"No," he replied, smiling slightly as he continued to untangle Bucky's trapped around.

"You're straight then?"

"Nope," he said.

"Oh, then..."

"Got it!" Steve pulled the sweater over Bucky's head.

"You were saying?"

Bucky leaned in and kissed him, gently, he hadn't kissed anyone since before the war, and was out of practice.

"I'm sorry...that was bad wasn't it? Unprofessional at least," Bucky muttered, pulling away.

"Unprofessional of me maybe, but not bad...lovely actually," Steve said, kissing him again.

Bucky grinned. "Do you want to grab some lunch?"

"My break starts in ten minutes."

Bucky left the store with five new dress shirts, two jackets, three pairs of dress pants, four pairs of jeans, and a tie.

Steve followed after him, walking a bit stiffly.

"Are you alright?"

"Rheumatoid arthritis," he muttered. "My joints get all stiff and swollen sometimes."

Bucky surveyed Steve's skinny frame.

"I've got asthma too, and a weak immune system...and I'm deaf in my left ear, so you know."

Bucky smiled. "Well I've got PTSD, trust issues, and a missing arm, so you know."

"Let's eat," Steve said softly. 

They settled on the pizza place in the mall's food court. They were going to go out to someplace nicer, but it had started storming and Bucky jumped out of his skin anytime he heard thunder.

"So what do you do Steve? Besides help idiots like me figure out what to wear."

Steve laughed. "I'm uh, putting myself through art school...not the most usual profession I'll admit but..."

"You've gotta do what you love," Bucky finished. "So do you draw or paint or..."

"Draw mostly, I sketch a lot," Steve said. "How about you Bucky?"

"Oh, well I don't do much of anything since I got back from the war. I've been pretty shaky," he flushed. "I've just been living with Nat and trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life."

Steve nodded. "You'll figure it out," he said. "Hey, you found a whole new wardrobe all by yourself."

"Not all by myself."

"I guess not."

"So can I get your number Stevie?"

"I put it in your jacket pocket Buck."

***

"Geez James you're freaking hot," Nat looked him up and down and Bucky winked.

"Well Steve helped."

"Oh yeah, did you get that kid's number?"

"Yep, you should've seen him Nat he's like a cute tiny sweet hipster."

"Sounds like your type. He's blonde too I assume?"

"You would be correct."

A knock on the door startled them both. "Steve! I was just talking about you. Come in," Bucky couldn't wipe the stupid smile off his face.

"What are you like 90 pounds? Bucky said you were tiny but holy shit."

"Nice to meet you Natasha," Steve replied. "I was just going to ask Bucky here if he had any plans tonight."

"I do not," Bucky grinned. "You gonna take me out?"

"Are you busy?"

"Course not. Here let me grab my wallet."

When Bucky was gone Natasha took a step closer, eyeing Steve critically. "You know he hadn't worn a decent outfit before you. Hadn't smiled like that either."

Steve nodded. "I don't intend to hurt Bucky, if this is what this is about."

"Bucky's easy to hurt."

"Yeah, have you seen me? I'm kind of easy to hurt."

"You can't be more than 95..."

"Bucky's special. I'm not going to hurt him."

"That's right man, I'm a special freaking snowflake," Bucky came back into the room and took Steve by the waist.

Bucky was having a nightmare. Steve could tell by the way he was thrashing around. He took his metal arm off before bed so at least he didn't have to worry about getting hit in the head with it.

"Bucky, Bucky honey," he put a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Jesus Steve I'm sorry. You finally convince me to stay the night and here I am nearly punching you. I...I'm sorry maybe I should go," he was starting to cry now in spite of himself. 

"Hey, hey it's okay. Don't worry about me. Buck quit crying you're gonna make me cry."

"'M sorry Stevie," he sniffled.

"Look at you, you've got snot all over your face," Steve frowned. "Here," He got up. "Put this on."

Steve threw him a ragged gray sweatshirt.

"What's this?"

"My dad's sweatshirt. I wear it when I feel lonely or scared. Kinda big on me. It'll probably fit you perfectly."

Bucky slipped off his shirt and Steve could see the scars. He saw where he was staring and turned the stump away.

"You know you're gorgeous right? Scars and all."

Bucky laughed. "That's funny."

Steve sat across from him on the bed. He kissed him, and then his neck, and his shoulder, then the scars, gently.

"Steve you don't have to..."

"I know I don't," He kissed him again. "If you don't mind my asking...you don't have to tell me. It's fine if you don't want to...I mean it's fine if you don't ever..."

"What Stevie?"

"How...your arm?"

"Car bomb, during the war. Lost some friends, an arm, a lot of sleep. I don't like to go into details."

He pulled on the sweatshirt, breathing in the thin fabric. "Smells like you."

"Used to smell like my pop."

"What happened to him."

"Cancer, he died when I was in high school."

"I'm sorry Steve."

"Hey, I told you to quit crying jerk."

Bucky laughed, sniffling some more.

"I kinda love you you know?"

"I kinda love you too."

"This sweater's nice," Bucky muttered.

"That's why I like helping people find clothes. I help them find confidence, find a way to hold on to someone when they're gone. Come back to bed Buck...don't go."

"Hey Steve?"

"Yeah?" They were tangled together, Bucky's hair mussed and smile bright.

"I liked what you said about clothes."

"Uh huh."

He kissed him. "Sometimes I prefer clothes on the floor though," he said, tugging at the hem of Steve's shirt.

Steve grinned. "Me too Buck, me too."


End file.
